“At the jubilee revels after the ceremony.”
Of course, thought Duga, the perfect time. During the ceremony, Eyakan would become Baboye’s consort. After the ceremony the orgy would begin. Revelers would be drunk on wine and other spirits that would flow freely. Prince Baboye would be no exception. Eyakan would have the opportunity to place the davosira in Baboye’s drink or stab him in the heart. People would be so drunk that Eyakan may even be able to get away without being caught.
“You know Prince Baboye wants to make you his consort at the jubilee,” Duga said, holding Eyakan tightly.
Eyakan pulled away from Duga’s grasp and gave him a puzzled smile. “Of course, but I’m not going to kill him. I can’t. I won’t. I don’t want to.”
“I believe you, but we must continue with preparations for the ceremony as if nothing has happened. I think that will be our best chance to discover who’s behind this and save your family.” Duga held back about the fact that the life of every harem boy was at risk. Eyakan was under enough pressure.
Duga sent Eyakan off to dinner with strict instructions to tell no one of their conversation and the plot against Baboye. Duga waited a few minutes before heading out himself. He wanted to reduce the chance that they would be seen leaving the library together.
Dinner was relatively uneventful. Duga watched Eyakan from a distance, always reminding himself that he was on a mission and that dalliances with any prince’s consort could be dangerous.
Duga ran into Gyles on the way back to his quarters. He handed Duga two notes and asked if he needed anything else.
“I know all harem staff members are vetted, but I want you to tell Eretu that I want her to vet them again and go as deeply as she can,” said Duga. “The compound may be as tight as a virgin’s ass most of the time, but I know for a fact that some people have been taken on only on the strength of a handshake and a smile. Tell her this needs to be top priority. Find me as soon as you get the results.”
Gyles turned to leave, but Duga had one more thing to ask of him.
“I want to do some searching in staff quarters tomorrow morning. Can you make sure I get in without any trouble and that the staff will be kept out of the way?”
Duga could see Gyles smile. It was the first time he’d seen Gyles’ face change and show any glimmer of emotion since they had met.
“Nothing would be easier,” Gyles said. “Good fortune, sir.” And he was gone, moving swiftly away.
Duga returned to his office and unfolded the notes. The prince sent a kiss. Shebi clearly remembered the code they had used so long ago and told Duga that he was sending a couple dozen men and women to Marqash. These were trusted people he used to protect his brothel or for other odd jobs over the years.
Duga slept fitfully that night. He still had a big job ahead of him, and the bed and room were, while comfortable, not his home. He thought of spending more time alone with Eyakan. Finally, as dawn broke, he pleasured himself to relieve the tension.
Chapter Five
Duga was just finishing up a light breakfast of creamed gilla grain and a fresh talphoux in his office when he heard a knock on the door. He had been expecting Rilas to come pick up the breakfast tray.
“Come in, Rilas.”
The door swung open, but it wasn’t the harem master’s assistant.
“Your highness,” Duga said, standing up when he realized who had opened his door.
“Sit down, Master Menasta. Sit down. This is a friendly visit.”
Duga didn’t sit down until Crown Prince Baboye had seated himself in one of the chairs in front of his desk, the same one that Eyakan had sat in the day before.
“Consider this a welcome-to-the-harem visit, Menasta. How are you settling in? Getting all the assistance you need?” Baboye grinned and glanced around the office.
“Well, your highness. Everyone has been nothing but helpful,” Duga said. Baboye had obviously gotten his message, but Duga wondered what the crown prince thought could be achieved by coming to the harem. He must be deeply in heat, Duga thought.
“This may not be the best place to talk, your highness.”
“Don’t worry. When I’m here, it’s as if we are wrapped in a cocoon. Nothing can penetrate.”
Duga had heard whispers of Thasali scientists developing some sort of cloaking device that would allow people to sneak around without being seen or heard unless they wanted to. Perhaps they were testing it here and now.
The prince continued, “I know you know more than what you told me in yesterday’s note. Tell me what you’re hiding.”
Duga thought for a moment. He didn’t want the Thasali security or the Matriarch to find out what Eyakan had told him for fear he would just be killed outright. Baboye couldn’t always be trusted. He was Thasali, after all, but Duga gambled on his desire for Eyakan to trump any other instinct or loyalty. Duga explained that Eyakan was his potential assassin, and his family was being threatened with death if he didn’t kill Baboye.
“Shouldn’t you move Eyakan somewhere safe?” Prince Baboye asked, his dark gold eyes getting seemingly a little darker.
Duga shook his head no. “Keeping him here for as long as we can is the best way to discover who the actual plotters are, sir. They’ll know the plot has been uncovered if we suddenly send him away. Besides, they would be sure to murder his family should Eyakan disappear. They’ve already cut off his sister’s finger and sent it to him.”
Baboye scrunched up his mouth in disgust and seemed to think about this for several moments. “That poor boy. I’ll look in on him before I leave. I should be safe now that we know he really doesn’t want to kill me.”
Duga said, “Certainly, sir. However, you know I recommend against it.”
Baboye stood up. “Don’t worry. I won’t stay long. I have to be back at the palace very soon for a meeting with the Matriarch and my brothers and assorted lackeys about the jubilee.”
“Please don’t let on that you know about his role in the plot,” Duga said. “He’ll wonder how you know, and he doesn’t know who I really am. To him, I’m Cassiel Menasta, sex trainer and confidante. I have to keep my cover.”
“All right. If that’s what you think is best, but I must see him,” Baboye said. “He’s very special.”
“I know,” said Duga.
Baboye got up and headed to the door. He paused for moment before he opened it and turned back to Duga. “Are you all right? Are your fluids in balance? You should see the harem physician. He’s quite good, I hear, keeps the boys in good health.”
Duga stood and tried to cover what he was actually feeling because he shouldn’t be feeling it. He couldn’t. “It’s all these jubilee preparations, sir. I never knew just how much work it involved until now.”
“You’ll do just fine at all of it. Good fortune,” Baboye said and left, presumably taking the cocoon with him.
Duga actually slapped himself. He was having feelings for Eyakan, that much was clear, but he couldn’t let them get in the way of his investigation. He certainly couldn’t let on to the crown prince how he felt about the beautiful young man. He wasn’t sure if his shared history with Baboye would save him.
Moments later, Rilas arrived to remove the breakfast tray and remind him of his meeting about jubilee banquet and revels preparations with Master Oraj and other staff members. Duga thanked him and found he was actually looking forward to the tedium of the meeting. He was the one who actually needed a distraction at the moment.
*~*~*
After the meeting, Duga checked in with Gyles, who assured him that he would be able to search the rooms of other staffers undisturbed for the next hour. The staff would be busy, and the doors would be unlocked. Duga went round to Kuzabu’s rooms first. His quarters, and all staff quarters with the exception of Master Oraj’s, had similar layouts. Another door in the office off to either left or right led to the living quarters, which included a small sitting room, a bedroom suite, and a lavatory.
The front d
oor, as Gyles had promised, was unlocked and opened into an office. Kuzabu’s office was neat, and everything in it was related to games and physical fitness. A reproduction of a sculpture of a well-built young man by the artist Skofi was set on a shelf. Skofi specialized in creating sculptures of young, naked men in various athletic poses, and reproductions of his sculptures were common in people’s homes throughout Resedna. Duga had admired one of Skofi’s sculptures up close at a Thasali banquet several years ago. Tertiana, never one to mince words, had snorted in derision and deemed it garish. Of course, Tertiana had always been more partial to the female form.
With the office providing no clues, Duga moved into the sitting room. It was neat and looked as though Kuzabu spent very little time there. The bedroom, however, was a different story. It was a mess. It was clear that Kuzabu not only slept in here but also ate many meals in here. Plates bearing the remnants of previous meals and mugs containing the dregs of mountain tea were scattered everywhere. Duga sniffed at one of the mugs. He caught of a whiff of quite strong mountain tea and something else. He sniffed again and recognized the sour smell of natash. Fresh natash was bad enough. Natash film left over in an unwashed mug was disgusting. Kuzabu was not a mudflat rat, as far as Duga knew, but the fermented beverage, while less common in Resedna and in the royal household, was drunk in various forms all over the planet Oranto. He replaced the mug in its spot on the window ledge. He rooted around in the mess of linens on the bed that spilled over onto the floor, looked in the lavatory and rifled through the closet but found nothing that would indicate Kuzabu had anything to do with an assassination plot. Of course, it could be that he was careful enough not to leave anything like that in his rooms.
It was when he let himself into Master Mekko’s room that he ran into some difficulty.
“Hoping for a quick bit of lamasket, Menasta? Mekko certainly had eyes for you at dinner the other evening.” It was Gerion who appeared to be on his way to his own quarters. Krask, thought Duga, I won’t be able to do a proper search. Duga, who had only just crossed the threshold into Mekko’s office, ignored Gerion’s suggestion that he was there for any sort of rendezvous.
“I was walking past Mekko’s office and thought I heard something from inside. Mekko was careless enough to leave his door unlocked, so I thought I’d take a quick peek to see if all is well,” Duga said, hoping Gerion would just go away.
But he didn’t. The two men stood there staring at each other. Gerion moved in closer.
“I’ve been wondering about you, Menasta,” said Gerion, suspicion in his voice. “The haste of your introduction into our little community in the middle of preparations for the Matriarch’s jubilee did raise some eyebrows.”
“You must know that Master Oraj had been complaining about my predecessor for some time. I was available and willing to take the job, even though it’s so close to the jubilee banquet and revels. I love a challenge.”
Gerion edged so close that Duga could see the white hair in Gerion’s eyebrows and smell breakfast on his breath. “I’ve heard whispers of a horrible thing, an assassination,” said Gerion. “Someone wants to kill the crown prince.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I’d believe rumors like that,” said Duga. “There are always tales of that nature floating about. They usually amount to nothing. It’s just chum to roil the waters the masses swim in. Give them something to talk about in the evenings.”
“If I discover that you have anything to do with it, Menasta, I’ll personally see you buried alive. Thasali have given me everything.” With that, Gerion turned on his heels and walked briskly away.
The inconvenient interlude with Gerion cost Duga some time. He had to sprint to get to his class on time, but Gerion’s devotion to Thasali almost made him somewhat nostalgic. He remembered a time when he had felt just as strongly about the family.
*~*~*
The sex class went well, although Duga noticed Eyakan was both distracted and elated. Once the other boys were dismissed, Eyakan stayed behind. Duga had scheduled some special tutoring for the young man to make sure he was ready for the consort ceremony. They also needed to talk more about those trying to get Eyakan to assassinate Baboye. Duga and Eyakan lay down facing each other on a sleeping pallet covered with a thin mattress.
“Prince Baboye came to see me this morning, sir.”
Duga caught himself before he could say, “I know.” Instead, he said, “Did he?”
Eyakan smiled. “Yes. He didn’t stay long. He said he knew I had classes to get to. He told me he was looking forward to the consort ceremony.”
Duga had to admit that he was jealous. He’d no right to Eyakan, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit resentful. He had felt many things toward Baboye over the years—love, lust, admiration, exasperation, camaraderie—but he had never resented the man who had given him everything. He tried his best to not let his resentment show.
“It sounds like you’re looking forward to the ceremony, too, Eyakan.”
“Oh yes. Baboye has been so good to me, and he’s pleasant to be with. He says that after the ceremony, he’ll let me top him. I want to be really good at it. I want to practice with you,” the young man said.
Duga fondly remembered topping Baboye when he became his consort, how his dick felt wrapped in the crown’s prince’s asshole.
Duga smiled. “We’ll get to that later. Now, have you been contacted again?”
Eyakan nodded, suddenly looking somber. He sat up and rooted around in the pockets of his robe until he removed a slip of paper. He handed the paper to Duga. The note stated that a knife and vial of davosira to replace the ones Eyakan had thrown into the lake would be provided to him soon.
Duga decided they should do what they were expected to do—get Eyakan ready for the consort ceremony.
“I’ll hang on to this,” Duga said, folding the note and placing it into a pocket in his loose-fitting pants. “In the meantime, we need to make sure you’re well prepared for the ceremony. You said something about wanting to top me?”
“Yes, sir.” He sat there on the edge of the pallet looking like he had something he needed to say that embarrassed him.
Duga put his arm around his shoulders. “I’m going to keep you safe. We’re going to figure this all out. You will be with Baboye, where you belong.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just that I…I...” Eyakan’s dark brown hair fell over his face. Duga stroked Eyakan’s back, feeling his well-defined muscles beneath the robe. Finally Eyakan blurted out, “Sir, I’ve never topped anyone. I want it to be so good for Prince Baboye, but I’ve only ever bottomed.”
“Then you’re going to be a very good top,” said Duga. It was true, thought Duga. The best bottoms also made the best tops. People like Oraj may come off as tough and sexy. They could be fun, but there was always something missing from the technique of someone who only ever topped. “Why don’t we disrobe and get to it? I’ll talk you through it.”
Eyakan flashed his irresistible smile, got up and dropped his robe to the floor. He stood there naked, showing off his creamy white smooth chest and his thick, hard cock as Duga took off his clothes. He directed Eyakan to grab the bottle of elodie oil and lay back down on the pallet.
“We’re going to have sex like a pair of lamasket missionaries,” said Duga spreading his legs wide. “For most sex, you don’t want too much talking, but today is an exception. I need to know how you feel. I need you to keep talking. I will do the same.”
Eyakan nodded in agreement as he squirted the lube into one of his hands. He had such fine, delicate fingers. Duga took a quick glance at his own hands. They were still delicate like the day he joined the harem but older, the skin looser and more wrinkled. He couldn’t even imagine what they would look like now if he hadn’t joined the harem and had gone with his father to work in the crystal mines.
“How do you feel about cold lube?” said Duga, returning his mind to the current task and fondling his slowly hardening dick in one hand.
“I don’t like it,” said Eyakan.
“Me neither. Warm it in your hands.”
Eyakan placed the bottled of elodie oil under the pallet and rubbed his hands together. His smoky grey eyes seemed to be getting back some of their sparkle and losing their fear. He got on the pallet between Duga’s legs and started moving his hands toward Duga’s asshole.
“Lean on your elbows and inch yourself forward,” said Duga. “You want to get as much of the lube in my ass and as little of it as possible on the sheets.”
Eyakan’s smile got a little broader as he followed Duga’s instructions. A small dimple that Duga hadn’t noticed before appeared at the left corner of Eyakan’s mouth. It just made him even more adorable.
Duga could feel Eyakan’s breath on his taint as he approached with his lube-covered fingers.
“Go slow and gentle,” said Duga. “Start small with the tip of one finger circling the asshole. I have heard that is what Baboye likes.” It had been so long since Duga had performed lamasket on the crown prince, although he doubted his tastes had changed that much.
Duga started breathing heavily, and his dick was now stiff in his hand. And then Eyakan stopped.
“Is this okay?” said Eyakan.
“Yes,” said Duga, relaxing his asshole. “Don’t stop. I’m ready for a finger.”
Eyakan’s finger slid in, wet, slippery and warm. He slowly pulled his finger in and out.
“Get on top,” said Duga. “Let me feel the weight of your body and the touch of your skin. Lamasket is a sacred act. It’s not just krasking. It’s all about touching another person deeply.”
Duga let go of his own dick and splayed his arms out onto the pallet. Eyakan kept one finger inside Duga and got on top of him. Their chests pressed together. Eyakan’s skin was soft and fresh. His weight was light.
“Give me more,” said Duga.
“Yes, Menasta.” A second finger and then a third worked its way into Duga’s asshole. They developed a slow steady rhythm. Duga stared into Eyakan’s beautiful eyes. Duga noted the way Eyakan’s eyebrows were styled to add to his delicate features. Duga admired Eyakan’s narrow Marqashian nose.
Tales of the Thasali Harem Box Set Page 8
